


Goodnight, My Friend

by feygrim



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mutually Unrequited, This show is so funny and happy why did i write this, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7818124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feygrim/pseuds/feygrim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the duel between Gareth and King Richard actually happened</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodnight, My Friend

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this in my drafts for so long and I'm posting it now just because (im terrible with timing, this show ending a while ago ^^;;)

_ Aw, are you worried about me, Gare-Bear? _

_ Don’t call me that! _

* * *

 

Gareth lunged forward. King Richard gripped his sword tighter, shaken by the fierce gleam in his childhood friend’s eyes. Their swords clashed and the king almost faltered but managed to stand his ground. 

“Gareth…” 

Gareth growled, pushing King Richard back and lunging again, swinging his sword down. 

King Richard barely reacted in time, blocking the swing, and his hands twisted, pushing the blade against the hilt of Gareth’s sword. 

Gareth hissed, his sword forced out of his hands. It clattered to the floor. 

King Richard stared down then up at Gareth, then at the sword, then back at Gareth. 

Murmurs spilled in from the crowd above. Galavant, Isabella, and Sid glanced at each other in surprise. No one expected King Richard to win so quickly, or at all, really.

“Kill him! Come on then!” Madalena shouted. 

His older brother’s irritating raspy voice rang out as well. “Don’t be a sissy, Dicky! Kill him!” 

“Hey, I thought you wanted to win!” Isabella huffed, glaring at them. Madalena raised her eyebrow, effectively silencing the princess, and Isabella pursed her lips in a sour expression. 

Gareth smiled, spreading his arms out. “Well, sire?” 

King Richard lifted and lowered his sword nervously. His guts twisted up inside, telling him this was wrong. “N-no. Not like this. I-if I’m going to kill you, then it has to be in the heat of the battle. Not like an execution.” 

Madalena groaned, pinching her nose in frustration.  

Kingsely laughed uproariously. “Even now, you still haven’t changed a bit, Dicky.” 

King Richard ignored them, pointing his sword at Gareth. “Pick up your sword, Gareth. Go on, this isn’t a trick or anything. I’m terrible at those anyway, you know me.”

Gareth sighed. “Yes, unfortunately, I do.” He picked up his sword. “You had your chance, sire. You’re not getting another one.” 

King Richard grinned. “There’s the Gareth I know and love! W-well, not love like that, I mean, like a bro. Bro love, you, you know what I mean-”

“For fucks sake, get on with it!” Madalena shouted.

Gareth lunged forward again. King Richard was ready for him this time. 

But something still felt wrong as metal whistled in the air and their swords caught the gleam of the sun. Gareth was giving him too many openings and not taking his own. Why? Didn’t he want to win? King Richard knew, from the many sparring bouts they’ve had, that his friend never held back. 

_ “Ow!” Young King Richard  fell on his back, wooden sword slipping from his hands. “That hurt, Gareth!” He pouted, rubbing his chest where the stronger boy stabbed him.  _

_ Gareth rolled his eyes, sheathing his wooden sword. “It’s supposed to hurt! And maybe it wouldn’t’ve, if you didn’t leave so many openings. If this were a real battle, you’d be dead!”  _

_ Richard pouted further. “W-w-well, I’m not a good fighter like you. And it’s too hard and boring and it makes me breathe funny and sweat and—ow! Gareth, you’re so mean!” He sniffed, rubbing his head. _

_ Gareth rolled his eyes. “Would you toughen up just a little?! You’re the king and it’s my job to teach ya how to not fucking die. And you’re not making it easy! Look, it’s simple, alright? You just have to find your moment, a slip up, an opening, and then bam! You stab them in their guts! Or their lungs, or their neck, or their…well you get the picture.” He swung his sword, parrying and blocking then thrusting, looking ever the picture of a real warrior. _

_ The boy picked his sword up. “Like this?” Richard stabbed his sword forward, sticking Gareth in the stomach. “……I got you, I got you!” _

_ “H-hey, I wasn’t ready! That’s cheating!” Gareth frowned. _

_ “It wouldn’t be cheating in a real battle though,” Young Richard said smugly.  _

_ Gareth’s lips twitched almost into a smile but then he caught himself, clearing his throat. “Whatever….Maybe you’re not that big of an idiot.” He helped the boy king up.  _

_ Young Richard grinned. “Aw, are you starting to care about me, Gare-bear?” _

_ “Don’t call me that!” _

_ “Ow!” _

* * *

 

King Richard fell out of hi s past and into the present, tripping onto his back. The crowd gasped, everyone leaning forward in anticipation. 

“I’m sorry, sire. I truly am.” Gareth grimly lifted his sword and brought it down.  

It was like everything happened in slow motion at that moment. He saw the opening clear as day and he reacted the way he was taught. King Richard lifted his own sword and closed his eyes, pushing himself up and forward. There was dead silence and he wondered for a moment if he was dead. He peeked with one eye open and found that there was a fate so much worse than death. 

“Ga…reth….?”

“L-looks like you’ve won, sire,” Gareth whispered, falling to his knees. The sword in his stomach dug in deeper and the blood spot spread across his tunic. 

King Richard dropped the sword in his hands, frantically gripping Gareth’s shoulders. “Gareth, tis but a flesh wound. Don’t worry, we’ll get you fixed right up,” he said, laughing shakily. “Y-you’ll be just fine.” 

Gareth smiled and closed his eyes. “Goodnight, my friend.” 

“Gareth? Gareth! Gareth, I order you to stop this! Th-this isn’t funny, Gareth!” But the man in his arms was limp and unresponsive, no matter how hard he shook him. “Gareth, please!” His voice cracked as he finally realized that Gareth wouldn’t suddenly stand up and tease him about how much of a baby he was being and ‘You should have seen your face, sire! Ha! Classic!’

King Richard knelt there for what felt like forever, hugging Gareth’s body to him. He didn’t give a damn about the blood soaking his favorite tunic or the fact that everyone could see him crying. He had lost his only friend. He was allowed this one thing, wasn’t he? 

  
  
  
  



End file.
